The Triplets
by Avery Greyson
Summary: Helga gets a little help from Arnold when she is forced to watch her sister's kids for the weekend.
1. Chapter 1: A Favor

**Hi everybody, I'm back again! This is a shorter one, three chapters, but I hope you like it anyway. Tuesday will be your update day, so check back next week for chapter 2. If you like what you read, tell me about it! Also if you happen to hate what you read, tell me about it! I love hearing from you guys. Enjoy -AG**

* * *

**Chapter 1: A Favor  
**  
There was no end to the lows she expected from her sister, but _this_ was unprecedented. She'd said no in as many ways as were possible by the English language—none of them had stuck. And now, Dad was getting involved. Helga stood at the top of the stairwell glaring down at her sister below.

"It doesn't matter what you say to him, I'm _not _going to watch your damn kids!"

Olga clutched the black cordless phone up to her chest, her other hand hovering over the dial pad on the receiver. Mascara was starting to stream down her face as tears began to flow from her eyes.

"I don't ask you for much Helga, the least you could do is…"

"Oh _bull_shit. If I had a quarter for every time you've called me up for some stupid thing since you and _Edgar_ hitched up, I'd be living it up in the Rivera!"

Olga opened her mouth in overdramatic agony and started flapping it open and closed like a fish. Half formed snivels came out instead of words.

Helga rolled her eyes. "And _cut_ the water works already. If they didn't work when I was twelve they sure as hell aren't going to work now,"

"It's just for one night Baby Sister, please. Why won't you just say yes?" Olga said.

"Because you got yourself into this mess and you're going to have to deal with it. _And_ in a way which doesn't involve pawning them off to me," Helga said, crossing her arms.

There were no shortage of things Helga hated about Olga, but her entitled and obnoxious triplets were at the top of the list by far. Every time Helga was reminded that she was an aunt at seventeen years old, it made her resent the brats a little more. To be fair, she had to cut them someslack—they _were_ only five years old after all. Guilty by association. Signs of irreparable damage were already showing, but she figured there might still be time to grow out of it. The real problem though was Olga's better half, her partner both in sickness and in health, Edgar Sneeves. Edgar was the embodiment of all things snobbish and conceited—he came from money and was headed straight for more of it. He was an investment broker at a very large firm and spared no moment reminding everybody about it. He won every junior fencing, golf, and tennis match the city had to offer and could have gone pro if it hadn't been for an opening at Harvard Business. The only thing he cared more about than his trophies and diplomas was Olga—they were made for each other. Olga may have married Edgar all by herself, but it was fate at its finest that gave her three spitting images of him. He wouldn't hire a nanny, though given the amount of flaunting he did at mandatory family diners, Helga had no doubt he could afford a hundred of them if he wanted.

She held no resentment toward Olga for getting married—in fact ensuring her happiness was in Hegla's best interest. It was the pair that really got to her, the two for one deal of insatiable entitlement and haughty demanding tones. There was no consideration for anybody else, because why should there be? All who were in the presence of Olga and Edgar Sneeves were graced beyond words. It was why she hated Edgar, it was why she hated Olga, and it was why she hated the kids.

"Helga, I don't want to call Daddy. Please?" Olga sobbed.

Mascara was streaking down her face at an alarming rate.

Helga folded her arms. "You're not going to call him. Don't think he'd take too kindly to having his big meeting broken up?"

Olga's hand hovered over the dial pad.

"I can see it now, Texas Cell Phone Summit keynote speaker Big Bob Pataki cancels speech for phone call from sniveling daughter,"

Olga stared back up at her, glaring through the tears.

"All because she was too dumb to hire a damn babysitter two nights before she left town," Helga said, shaking her head.

Olga placed the phone up to her ear and dialed the first three numbers.

Helga took a step forward. "All his credibility ruined,"

She dialed the next two.

"For_ life!_"

Olga paused and hit the last two.

"Son of a bitch!" Helga shouted and dove down the stairs.

She ran for the phone cord on the far side of the living room. She was two steps away when she paused dead in her tracks.

"Hi Daddy," Olga said.

Helga turned around and glared at her sister. Olga started laying it on thick—this wouldn't turn out well. Olga looked up finally and held the phone out.

"He wants to talk to you,"

There was no trace of sarcasm or snarky vengeance in her voice, only genuine sadness. It infuriated Hegla. She stormed over and grabbed the phone, taking it out on the porch and slamming the door.

"I don't care what she said to you, I'm not…"

'_You're doing it'_

"I am not! This is total bullshit and you know it. I'm not going to keep bailing her out like this,"

'_Hey hey hey hey hey! You're part of this family too aren't you? We don't _bail _each other out, we help each other out," _

"It's on Saturday night for christsakes. What if I had plans?"

'_Do you?'_

"That's not the point! Besides, I can't watch three five-year-olds by myself, that's suicide,"

'_So get Phyliss or Fasha or whatever to help'_

"Phoebe, Dad, Phoebe. And that's not going to happen because…"

'_Look, I don't care how you do it or who you get to do it with, but you're watching those kids tomorrow night. End of story. If I get back there and find out you didn't, it's…'_

Helga hung up the phone. She took an angry breath and went back inside. She held the phone out to Olga, pointing its antenna at her like a knife.

"This is a one-time deal, understand? Leave the keys on my bed and I'll head over at four tomorrow. _Next time _you're hiring a sitter. Or, oh here's a thought, you could actually be a Goddamn _mother_ for once!" Helga said.

Olga squealed and jutted her arms out, heading in for a massive mascara smeared hug. Helga held the phone out towards her sister's rapidly approaching face.

"Touch me, I dare you. See what happens,"

Olga paused and slowly brought her arms back down by her sides.

"Well thanks anyway Helga. I've got to go pack, but I'll call you tomorrow,"

"Let's don't and say we did," Helga said. She stormed past Olga and went straight upstairs and slammed her door. The weekend had just ended an hour after it had begun.

* * *

The clock on her desk read 5:17, and it was officially time she started panicking. It seemed that every single person in her contact list had something going on this weekend—either that or they didn't particularly wish to spend their time off school watching triplets. Phoebe, first on her list, was in Portland at a book signing at Powel's. Sally and Sam, the English class twins, were at a wedding. Rhonda was in Aspen. Her parents were both in Texas. This left Sid—and while she certainly didn't like the triplets, she definitely didn't hate them _that _much. Helga sighed and jammed her phone in her pocket. She got up, grabbed her pink hoodie from the edge of the bed and headed out. She decided a walk—and a smoothie—was in order to clear her mind.

She made the practiced walk down 17th Street and turned up Vine, hopping on the 29L bus for three miles. Its destination was the 'Hillwood Plaza Shoppes'—one of many strip malls in Hillwood and the main high school hangout. It was two blocks from campus and housed all manner of shops and eateries that didn't mind the angst stampede that happened from twelve to one o'clock, Monday through Friday. She got off the bus and made her way to the corner of the mall, hopping over the broken curb on her usual route through the parking lot towards Jamba Juice.

She saw him before he looked up—she always did. The approach to the building was simple; all she had to do was stay behind the orange umbrella and walk right in the door. The view was completely open but from the inside looking out, the umbrella blocked the entire lot from sight. She stood by the door for a moment and then walked in.

"Welcome to Jamba…oh hey Helga!"

Arnold waved from behind the bar. "You're kinda late today huh? Still want the usual?"

She smiled and grabbed one of the stools next to the window. "Hit me up barkeep,"

Arnold flashed her a smile before turning around and grabbing one of the blenders from a rack behind the counter. He started filling it with juices and frozen fruits.

"So how's life? Tank that Civil War test as hard as I did?" he said.

"It was ugly. Probably not as ugly as Shiloh was, but it ran a close second," Helga said.

She swiveled on the stool and took a look around the store—heading straight in under cover of orange umbrella as she usually did didn't offer up much recon on the rest of the shop. She and Arnold were the only ones there, aside from a very pimply faced kid stuffing money from the register into a comically large plastic inventory bag. She glanced at her watch—ten to six. She figured they'd be closing up soon. The sun was sitting low in the sky, casting a brilliant orange beam across the parking lot. Headlights were just starting to turn on, sending a mix of natural and electric light hurtling through the window pane wall. Helga spun back around and faced the bar.

"So listen, I've got a favor to ask you," Helga said.

Arnold shoved the scoop down in the ice bucket and flipped a ball of packed snow up in the air. He spun around, catching it with the blender in his other hand.

"That so? That's a change of pace," Arnold said smiling.

"Woah, look out Cirque du Soleil. Those silk spinners 'aint got nothing on you," Helga said.

Arnold took a small bow before jamming the blender down on its base. "I try,"

Helga cleared her throat. "Well, you know, I…"

He started the blender—the ice slammed against the plastic walls, drowning her out. Arnold turned around and started putting lids back on the fruit in the freezer base.

"So what's up? Need to _borrow _some more calc homework?" he shouted over the blender.

"Nope…well actually if you're offering…but no, that's not what's up," Helga said.

Arnold looked up at her expectantly.

"I know you're a busy guy, and I wouldn't ask you normally, but you're kinda last on my list,"

"Uh oh, this sounds serious," Arnold said.

"I mean, not totally. I'm kinda in a jam is all,"

Arnold stopped the blender and grabbed a cup. "I'm off in ten. Wait for me out back,"

Helga nodded and grabbed her cup.

"Adios and vaya con dios," She said, opening the door.

"In a while crocodile," Arnold shouted back.

Helga walked around to the back of the store and sat down on the loading dock. She took a sip from her smoothie and sighed. Say what you wanted about Arnold Short, but he did know how to make a damn good drink. She looked up at the vibrant orange sky and focused in on a vapor trail out toward the west. She could just make out the faint dot of the jumbo jet spawning the long white tear across the sky. It was probably headed to Canada or maybe Alaska Helga thought—she wished she was on it. No kids to deal with then.

The back door swung open.

Arnold stepped out and plopped down next to Helga on the loading dock.

She was still looking up at the sky. "What up Short,"

He was holding a massive smoothie cup—he took a big swig and shrugged.

"By far, the _best_ part of this job. We keep any drink orders that get screwed up,"

"Oh the luxurious life of a Jamba Juicer,"

He took off his orange visor and ran a hand through his hair. "So what's up?"

"The sky. And that plane up there in it. Funny thing? My sister's probably on it as we speak,"

Arnold nodded and took another pull from the cup. Helga sighed and looked over at him.

"So you know she's got three kids right?"

"Uh, yeah I think you mentioned that a few times?" Arnold said.

"You off tomorrow night?" Helga said.

Arnold frowned. "Yeah, but I'm not following you at all,"

"I'm being forced to play Mary Poppins to these brats because _Olga _just decided it'd be great to just up it and take off for the weekend with her beloved shithead. I'm tough, but not three toddlers on solo mode tough,"

Arnold nodded, straw sticking out the corner of his mouth.

" Now I'll pay you. I was scrounging around and found like thirty bucks, it's not really…"

Arnold gulped. "Wait wait wait. You want me to _help?_"

Helga smiled weakly.

"Jeez Helga, I don't know anything about watching kids! I mean…" He laughed. "What's Phoebe doing?"

"She's in Oregon," Helga said.

Arnold shook his head and started to speak.  
"Rhonda's in Aspen, and the twins are in Napa. My parents are in Texas. You are literally the _last _person on my list Football Head," Helga said.

He pushed his bangs back and blinked. "So what do you want me to do exactly?"

"All we gotta do is deal with them for one night. Basically just cram some food in them, toss water on 'em and throw them in the beds," Helga said.

Arnold shook his head. "I think it's a little more than…"

"They're five. They'll be out by like seven thirty and you'll be home by nine. Ten at the latest. Please Arnold,"

Now he was the one looking up at the sky.

"My dad's _forcing_ me to do it, and trust me, I don't want to do it any more than you do. I hate kids. But like I said, there's thirty bucks in it and we can probably raid Olga's cabinets for whatever. Lord knows they've probably got some fine ass stuff in there,"

Arnold sighed. "No you don't have to pay me. Gah, fine. I'll do it, but you owe me big okay?"

"I always do," Helga said.

Arnold looked at her for a moment and then started laughing. "I cannot believe I'm doing this. What time and where?"

"I'll text you the address later. Meet me at her place at five tomorrow. Out by ten, I promise," Helga said.

She stood up and walked back out towards the parking lot. Arnold was still sitting on the loading dock when she paused to look back.

"I seriously owe you huge. Like…well, yeah you know. You're really saving my ass here,"

Arnold waved. "Yes I do. Yes I do,"

* * *

Helga stood on Olga's porch, looking up at the massive building with full knowledge of the impending doom that was to come. She leaned up against the black marble and wrought iron stairwell and waited for Arnold to arrive. The house was a massive Victorian in a neighborhood of equally massive Victorians—this one though was of course the biggest and most lavish. There were only two units in the building and the Sneeves had the penthouse (it even said so on their mail slot). It sat on the very top most part of the Hillcrest District, one of the highest and most beautiful parts of Hillwood. The afternoon sun was arcing over the skyscrapers, bouncing its harsh beams against the glass creating a spectacular beacon shining perfectly over the stunning view of the city below. Helga found herself in complete disbelief every time she came up here—she just couldn't figure out how a city could look so beautiful, and how her own sister could be so cavalier about it. She'd never seen an ugly sight from Hillcrest but Olga and Edgar never really seemed to notice.

She spun around when she heard a deep car engine cough and rumble up to the curb. A very old and beat up military green Packard rolled in the driveway and sputtered out. Helga smiled as Arnold stepped out of the car and slammed the door. She never really saw him at school and she'd almost forgotten what he looked like out of his work uniform. Jeans and a blue plaid shirt with Oakleys was a much better tradeoff than orange and tan Jamba gear. It was self serving yes, but she was really glad he agreed to come. Their dynamic had changed significantly over the years, but for Helga it had all pretty much stayed the same on the inside. The outward hostility died down with age, and she traded personal attacks for general all-purpose snarkyness. Her heart still fluttered every time she ran into him, but she figured if nothing happened by now, it wouldn't anytime soon. High School had thrown them in separate class pools and to greatly strained emotions. She had a harder time adjusting than most, but she dealt with it. They never saw each other much anymore, and she didn't hunt him down like she would have a few years ago. He was part of the scenery now instead of the destination. She never turned down the chance to see him—berries and sorbet weren't the only sweet things about Jamba Juice—but it was more to chance. It was less stressful, and she figured that was probably a good thing.

Arnold stepped out of the driver's side, looking at his phone. The sun bounced off his sunglasses when he stepped out the car, blending him in with the orange glow of the Hillcrest afternoon.

"I'm cool in the driveway right? I didn't think I had the right address, I knew that…"

He stopped mid sentence as his eyes slowly left the screen and went up to the house. He looked at Helga and then back to the house, his mouth hanging open.

"Your sister lives _here?_" He said.

"Welcome to the luxury deck," She said flatly.

Arnold took off his sunglasses and shook his head slowly. "Do they rent it or…?

His voice trailed off. Helga smiled and let him gaze at the luxurious monstrosity.

"When you think about it, doesn't really matter really does it?" Helga said.

Arnold shrugged. "Yeah, I guess you're right,"

She waved him over. "Come on. Let's get this shitshow started, shall we?"

Arnold walked up the stairs as Helga hefted her pink backpack over one shoulder. She hit the door to the lobby and pressed the buzzer. The doorman answered after one ring.

"Mary Poppins and Bert here for number one," Helga said.

There was a pause followed by a muted buzzer. The glass pained door clicked open and Helga went in. Arnold shut the door behind him and tried to act normal as they walked up the marbled stairs. The interior of the lobby was ten times nicer than the front outside. Redwood paneled walls gave way to intricate black stone crown molding on the baseboards, sloping down gracefully to the immaculately waxed hardwood floors. Wrought iron chandeliers hung from the ceilings, casting a warm glow throughout the entire lobby backed up by blown glass sconces on the walls. It was simple and elegant, shying away from the gaudy self-indulgent theme of the rest of the neighborhood. Minimalistic in all the right places with sweeps of modern flair—it screamed money.

Helga made a left at the top of the stairs and made the short walk to the double door entrance of the penthouse. She buzzed once and the door swung open. Olga sprang out and embraced Helga in the biggest and most engrossing hug possible.

"Baby Sister!"

"Oh Jesus Christ!"

Helga shoved her off, and she took a step back in the foyer with a huge smile.

"And who's this?" Olga said.

Arnold smiled and took a step forward. "I'm Arnold, one of Helga's friends. I'll be helping out tonight, if that's alright that is,"

"Of course it is! If my baby sister trusts you then that's good enough for me. They can be a handful sometimes, so I'm sure she'll appreciate the help," Olga said.

She spun around and walked back inside, motioning for them to follow.

"Yeah well appreciate this," Helga said under her breath.

Arnold chucked and followed them both inside, shutting the door behind him. Olga was prattling away from the kitchen as they walked inside.

"I'm actually running a bit late, so I have to get going pretty soon. Helga knows where everything is though, so you shouldn't have much trouble at all,"

Arnold had just gotten over the lobby and now he was thrust back into disbelief all over again. The apartment was simply stunning. It looked like it came right out of a set of magazines—design from Architectural Digest with furniture from Restoration Hardware.

"I was able to arrange for a sitter after all, so you'll just have to deal with them tonight. She'll be here tomorrow morning. Helga knows all about the boys' bedtimes and all that. I've left groceries for their dinner out on the counter, so you'll just have to toss it in a pan real quick…"

The ceilings were easily thirteen feet tall, with recessed track lighting covering only the most flattering areas. This was like nothing he'd ever seen in person before—it made Rhonda's house look like a Motel 6.

"I just can't believe how much plane tickets to France are these days. I thought about only going for a round trip from Paris, but who has the time for that? Spending the layover in Nice is just far more sensible…"

There were eight skylights…he counted.

"Oh, my cab's here!" Olga squealed, glancing at her phone. "I'll go get the kids,"

Helga had crossed over to the kitchen and was waist deep in the stainless steel French door refrigerator. She leaned out, kicked the door shut and went to lean against the counter.

"Hey space cadet, catch," Helga said.

She threw Arnold a can of Coke and hopped up on the counter.

"Load up now, you'll need it. This'll be the longest night of your life,"

Arnold caught the can, snapping him out of his trance. "Come on, they can't be that bad,"

Helga laughed as Olga rounded the corner.

"Boys, meet Arnold. He's going to be helping Aunt Helga watch you. You treat him like you would her alright,"

"Ooh, bad idea," Helga said under her breath.

Three five-year-olds were staring back up at them, shifting their eyes from Helga and back to Arnold. Olga took a step back, beaming.

"This is Hunter, Blake, and Tyler," She said as if listing off periodic elements of precious metals. She leaned down and kissed each of them on the head before turning on her heels and heading for the door. She grabbed her Dolce and Gabbana handbag and waved, and with that she was off to France for the weekend.

* * *

**Chapter 2: 6/25/13**


	2. Chapter 2: Little Monsters

**And now ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, I present to you the second chapter. Thanks to each of you who stopped by and said kind words about the story so far-it really means a lot to me to hear from you guys. Enjoy the chapter and check back next Tuesday for the epic conclusion. -AG**

* * *

**Chapter 2: Little Monsters**

Arnold just stood there looking at the kids, and they stood there looking right back. Each of the three boys slowly shifted their gaze from Arnold to Helga, sizing them up like rabbits in a lion cage. Arnold didn't move, he just continued to look blankly at them like a deer in headlights. It was the Tyler (oldest by four minutes) on the end who broke the silence.

"Are you from the slum part of town like Helga too?"

Arnold opened his mouth to answer, but he had absolutely no response to that.

"Your head looks funny," Blake said.

"Did you get dropped as a baby?" Hunter said.

Arnold looked at each of them, his mouth still agape. "I…uh…"

Helga hopped off the counter and walked over to them in the living room.

"Well thanks for that Tyler, great manners there buddy," Helga said. She looked up at Arnold and cocked her mouth into a forced smile. "And these are the kids. Charming aren't they?"

"My dad says that we're the best parts of the Sneeves and the Padaki's. He says you were the test models and we're the real things," Tyler said.

"Aw that's adorable, you can't even say your family name right. And how can you argue with that logic? Now why don't you all go with Arnold over to the living room while I try to figure out what your Mom wants me to do for dinner," Helga said.

Arnold shot his eyes up to her, pleading. "Maybe we should…uh…"

"Why do we have to?" Blake said.

"Because," Helga said.

"Because why?" Blake said.

"Because I'm your elder. Don't question me," Helga said.

"But his head looks funny," Hunter said.

"And yours will too if you don't follow Arnold here," Helga said. She gave him a pat on the shoulder and whispered in his ear. "No fear. They're like sharks, they can smell it on you,"

He stared blankly back at her so she gave him a small push toward the living room. He fell forward and started walking slowly toward the recessed foyer space of the den.

"Uh, come on guys. Why don't you show me around a bit," Arnold said.

Helga snickered and went back to the kitchen. It was funny yes, but she was starting to feel bad for him. He clearly had no idea what he was doing—or what he would be in store for. They were standing on a five year old atom bomb and the timer started as soon as they walked in the door.

She leaned over the countertop and picked up the instructions for dinner, written on the back of a Whole Foods grocery list. As she expected, everything was home-grown organic and locally sourced. The amount Olga paid for one cup of rice could probably feed Hegla for a month. The menu for the evening consisted of goat cheese and whole milk mozzarella flatbread pizza (complete with hot house tomato sauce), oven baked free range chicken nuggets, and baked apples sourced from a Hillwood co-op. In true Olga fashion, nothing was prepared. Helga sighed and went to work.

The only saving grace about the whole affair was the kitchen. Like the rest of the house it was unnecessarily opulent—it looked like Bobby Flay won the lottery and had spent the spoils entirely on the Sneeves' kitchen. It took Helga half the time to do the prep, and things were baking away far sooner than she had hoped for. She was just about to set the table when a Nerf football whizzed by her head and slammed into the hood above the range.

"Jesus! What the…" she said, picking up the ball.

She walked out in the hallway, eyebrows raised, and instantly slammed herself against the wall. Tyler ran past her, full speed, holding a piece of decorative driftwood out in front of him like a lance.

"Woah! Tyler slow down!" Helga shouted.

"For the King!" Tyler screamed, running faster.

Helga stormed down the hallway after him and passed Blake in the den on the way. He was surrounded by four more footballs—these ones NFL grade replicas. He had one in his hands when his eyes shot up to Helga. She pointed the Nerf ball out at him like a sword.

"You. Ball down. Now."

Blake dropped the ball and went running through a set of double doors behind him which led to the back part of the apartment. Helga shook her head and went back down the long hallway after Tyler. She rounded the corner at the end of the hallway and stormed into Olga and Edgar's room. Tyler was jumping up and down on the imported feather bed—he had a red cape on and was triumphantly waving a wooden sword over his head.

"Get the fff…fork off that bed!" Helga said.

"I don't take orders from the evil queen!" Tyler said.

"Oh you'll see a real evil queen in a minute if you don't get down," Helga said.

"Never! You can't stop the Red Knight!" Tyler said.

"Oh I can't huh? You forget what happened last time buddy-boy? Don't make me go all wicked stepmother on you again. You know I can, and you know _I will_." Helga said.

Tyler stopped jumping and locked eyes with Helga, his beady brown eyes staring into her piercing blue ones. She raised one eyebrow and Tyler got off the bed.

"Darn right. Now where's Arnold?" Helga said.

Tyler raised his sword again. "We slew the dragon!"

He shot off past Helga down the hallway again.

She sighed and picked up the driftwood lying on the floor, leaning it back up against the wall. She walked out of Olga's room and headed for the massive bedroom shared by the triplets. Three large boxes of LEGOs had been tipped over and blanketed the entire floor in brightly hued plastic chaos. Hunter was in the middle of it all, tossing handfuls of plastic bricks into the sprawling pile. Arnold was halfway up a standing bookshelf on the other side of the room. He was on the fifth shelf of the floor-to-ceiling case, hanging on with one hand—his other had was stretched out to support the motherload of LEGO boxes. The gargantuan plastic tub was tilting off the edge of the shelf and Arnold was straining to keep it up.

"Oh. My. God." Helga said from the doorway.

Arnold tilted his head slightly over toward the door.

"Help."

Helga crossed the room, pushing LEGOs out of the way with her foot. She got over to him and put her hand out on the shelf.

"What the hell happened?" Helga said.

"I…I don't know. I said these were cool LEGOs and we should play with them, and then…this happened," Arnold said, straining to keep the box up.

"Rookie mistake," Helga said, looking up at the box.

It was on the top most shelf, three layers above Arnold's head, and filled to the brim with every type of brick that could be bought.

"This thing is coming down. I'm not sure how much longer I can hold it," Arnold said.

"Okay okay, hold on," Helga said.

She climbed the shelf next to him, trying to get higher. Arnold stuck his leg out and braced it on the bottom shelf.

"Here, step on my leg and try to get to the edge,"

Helga nodded and shimmied up. Arnold grunted with her whole weight on his thigh, but Helga finally managed to get her hands on the box.

"Okay, now if we both push on it at the same time, we should be good. Ready?" Helga said.

Arnold nodded.

"Okay. One, two…

"That looks really high," Blake said.

Arnold and Helga both turned their heads at the same time. Hunter, Blake, and Tyler were all standing in the doorway, looking up at them with devilish smiles.

"Looks heavy too," Hunter said.

"Real heavy." Tyler said.

They all grinned in unison.

"Uh, guys? Just wait for us okay? We'll be down in a second," Arnold said.

The triplets looked at each other and grinned wider.

"We can help," Tyler said.

They slowly looked up at the box and then back down at the base of the shelf. Helga's stomach dropped.

"No. Uh-uh. You three…"

"Earthquake!" Tyler said.

All three kids rushed forward, ramming into Arnold's legs at full speed. He yelped and shot both his hands out to try to steady himself but he only grabbed air. Helga scrambled to grab the edge of the LEGO box but it was too late. Arnold tripped backward and fell down on the floor, Helga right behind him. Flat on her back, she looked back up and saw, almost in slow motion, the box rotate on the edge of the shelf and tumble down to the carpet below. It landed on its side, the top ripping open letting loose a biblical flood of LEGOs. Plastic bricks gushed around them, covering both Arnold and Helga up to their waists. The triplets yelled and ran out to the living room.

"I know they're only five, but I hate your nephews," Arnold said.

"Welcome to the club," Helga said.

She stood up, pushing an avalanche of bricks off her lap. She walked over to the edge of the room.

"Watch this," she said.

Helga stuck her head out the door and yelled down the hallway. "Oh boys! If you help us clean this room up, I'll order pizza and ice cream for dinner!"

There was a pause.

"With non-vegan cheese and _real_ _dairy_," She added.

There was an instant stampede of tiny fluttering feet running down the hallway. The three kids shot into the room and started throwing LEGOs back in the bins. Arnold and Helga put them back on the shelves as soon as they were full, and in an alarmingly short time the room was spotless. The triplets ran back out towards the kitchen, high fiving each other over excited whispers about pizza. _Real _pizza.

Arnold looked around a moment, stunned by the LEGO free floor.

"That…that was amazing. That took them like, ten minutes!"

"It's the tiny hands and youthful energy. I think maybe Nike has the right idea," Helga said dryly.

Arnold rolled his eyes. "That's horrible,"

"Come on," Helga said, walking in the hallway. "We won the battle but there's a war on, remember?"

* * *

They reached the dining room and found all three boys at the table, forks in hand. Arnold plopped down on the other side of the table and ran a hand through his hair, sighing. Helga smirked and went into the kitchen. He was already wearing down and dinner was getting started. This was going to be a long night.

She pulled out three plates of organic chicken nuggets and skim mozzarella flatbread from the oven. Walking slowly back into the dining room, she sat down at the head of the table and slid the three plates over to the triplets.

"Hey! This isn't real pizza!" Hunter yelled.

"No. No it's not," Helga said.

"But you said if we helped you clean we'd get real pizza!" Blake whined.

"Let me tell you something about Aunt Helga,"

She leaned over the table, looking at each of the triplets.

"Aunt Helga lies."

They locked eyes, each daring the other to make a move. Tyler crossed his arms.

"Well I'm not eating this,"

Helga shook her head. "Oh yes you are,"

"No. I'm not," Tyler said.

Helga twitched her mouth to the side. "Look, you little sh…"

"Hey I've got an idea!" Arnold said, glancing at Helga harshly. "You guys like movies right?"

The triplets all nodded slowly, cautious, calculating. They were intrigued, but also now on high alert for more teenage trickery.

"Okay, well, after you get done eating we'll go put one on. But, only _one_ of you gets to choose what we watch. First person to guess who I am wins. Okay?"

They all nodded. Helga sat back down next to Arnold. She had no idea where he was going with this, but giving the triplets free reign of movie choice was pure madness. She hoped he hadn't cracked yet, they weren't even three hours in. Arnold popped the collar on his shirt and curled a finger under his chin. He hunched over and leaned toward Helga.

"Princess! I cannot allow you to continue fraternizing with that…_street rat!_" Arnold said.

Helga just stared at him, mouth open—he really had cracked. He leaned in closer to the table.

"I _said_, how can you love that street rat?!"

He dropped his voice. "Come on Helga, play along,"

Then it dawned on her what he was getting at. She raised her hand to her forehead.

"Oh you _evil_ wizard! When my father the _sultan_ finds out about this…"

"Ooh! Ooh! It's The Lion King!" Blake shouted.

"It's not The Lion King you moron, it's Aladdin. It is Aladdin right?" Tyler said.

Arnold nodded. "Yep, looks like you win Tyler,"

The other two boys groaned.

"You always win!" Hunter said.

"No fair!" Blake chimed in.

"Too bad, I won. And that means I get to choose. And I pick…Aladdin!"

The plates were cleared in a matter of seconds and all three boys rushed over to the seventy inch flat screen in the corner of the living room. Within seconds, Arnold and Helga both heard the wonderfully occupying sound of Arabian Nights blasting through the Bose 7.1 surround sound system.

"Oh thank God for the Disney cooperation. That was a pretty slick move Football Head, I'm impressed," Helga said.

"Thanks. I saw Suzy do it once with Oscar Jr, and it worked great then too. Can't beat the power of suggestion," Arnold said, leaning back in his chair.

"Truth. Well come on, let's get the kitchen cleaned while Robin Williams takes the night shift for us," Hegla said.

"Oh man. Let me sit here just a bit longer…" Arnold said, throwing his arm over his face.

"Nope, come on. You can sit when you're dead. We've only got about thirty-five minutes of sweet Disney manufactured distraction before they start going ape shit again,"

Arnold looked up at Helga. "That's not even half the movie!"

He put his head down on the table. "Ugh! How can they have this much energy. This isn't possible!"

"We were like that once too you know,"

Arnold stood up slowly, rubbing his back. "I was never like _that_,"

* * *

Arnold followed Helga into the kitchen and the two started cleaning up the politically correct organic and fair trade dinner. As per Helga's prediction, just about the time Aladdin was bargaining with Genie for the creation of Prince Ali (fabulous he, Ali Abagwah), trouble started brewing in the living room. Helga sighed and walked toward the living room. She grabbed Arnold's shirt sleeve dragging him away from the sink.

"But I'm still…"

"Don't care. Come on,"

"But…the dishes,"

"Nope,"

"Please?"

She shook her head. They both walked into the living room to find Tyler bashing Hunter and Blake over the head with the dual link controlled, HD wireless omni-remote.

"He started it!" Blake shouted.

"Nuh-uh!" Tyler shouted back.

"Ow! Stop it!" Hunter yelled, adding to the fray.

"Hey! Shut it! I don't care who started it. Movie time's over anyway—time to get you guys into a bath and off to bed," Helga said.

The three groaned in unison.

"_Don't_…start with me!" she snapped back.

She turned to Arnold. "Alright, what are you waiting for. Get them into the tub,"

Arnold's mouth dropped open. "Wha…wait, you're not helping?"

"All you,"

"Why?!"

She walked slowly back to the kitchen and popped open the fridge, grabbing another can of Coke.

"Well you know, _they're_ all boys, _you're _a boy. You seem more suited to the job I guess, I don't know. Go do…manly bonding or something," she said, twirling her hand.

Hegla plopped down on a barstool and put her feet up on the kitchen counter. Arnold followed her out of the living room, leaning into the kitchen.

"Oh that's _bull_shit. You just don't want to deal with this…mess. Cause that's what it's going to be! A watery mess," Arnold whined.

She shrugged. "Guilty,"

Arnold sighed. "Fine. But this means _you_ have to put them to bed,"

"Deal," Helga said

Arnold turned back to the living room and sighed. "Okay guys…let's go,"

Helga couldn't help but laugh—he sounded like he was being ordered to six years hard labor. She watched him disappear down the hall with the triplets leading the way.

It had been a hell of a night so far, and it was only getting longer. Arnold was holding up a lot better than she expected him to—the Sneeve kids definitely knew how to weed out the weak and feeble minded. She would have put money on him loosing it after the LEGO incident, but he just kept on rolling with the punches. Sure, he was getting visibly more annoyed at this point, but she still had to give him mad props for sticking it out. It was just like the Arnold she knew and loved, and she was damn happy she had him here tonight. The added bonus, was that he was a hell of a backup sitter. All she had to do now was deal with the kitchen and then dive into the heavenly soft imported leather couch for some much needed rest.

* * *

**Chapter 3: 7/2/13**


	3. Chapter 3: Battle Scars

**Well ladies and gentlemen, this is it: The final chapter of The Triplets. Don't be too sad though, I do have that longer story I was working on pretty much done, so I'll be putting that out there sometime soonish.**

**A huge thanks to all of you who stopped by and said something about the story-I read them all and it's great knowing you guys are out there turning those digital pages. So post away if you feel like saying or asking something (I'll answer those questions if I can by the way) and most importantly, enjoy the story! 'Yall are the best readers in the world and it's been awesome writing for you. **

**-AG**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Battle Scars**

Helga threw the last plate into the dishwasher and slammed the door shut. The kitchen was finally cleaned, and her duty was almost over. She kicked the start button with her foot and went over to the living room, diving head first onto the couch's soft leathery embrace. She let out a groan and sunk into the cushions—those kids knew how to wear a person down. She rubbed her face and took a glance around; surprisingly it wasn't the warzone she had expected it to be. A few things were out of place—a football here, a LEGO there—but nothing that needed too much cleaning. She was so exhausted it wouldn't have mattered anyway, but still, one less thing for Olga to complain about. She was just getting comfortable when she realized she hadn't heard anything from Arnold.

It had been about thirty minutes since he disappeared to the bathroom with the triplets, and she knew she should probably go check to make sure they hadn't drowned him or something. On the other hand, the couch was deceptively comfortable and she _did _just clean an entire kitchen from Olga's selection of the entire Whole Foods stocking form. She sat on the couch a moment longer, listening down the hall for any signs of life. When she heard nothing, she decided it would be safer to check. Just as she was about to actually get up off the couch, Arnold appeared from the darkness of the hallway. He tiredly shuffled toward the living room, arms hanging down in defeat. Helga took one look at him and burst out laughing. He was drenched, head to toe, covered in bubble bath suds. Fluffy pink bubbles ran all over his hair and down his shoulders and he smelled like the service entrance of a Bath and Body Works. He paused at the threshold of the living room and looked dejectedly over at Helga.

"They're evil. They're actually evil," Arnold murmured.

He resumed his exhausted shamble over to the couch and plopped down next to her, squishing as he went down on the leather seat. He leaned his head back and shut his eyes.

"Tag. You're it,"

Helga laughed and shook her head.

"Oh boy," she said.

She got up and went down the hall to where the bedrooms were, pausing on the way at the linen closet. She grabbed a towel and threw it at Arnold, then turned to face the dragon's lair.

* * *

It was thirty-five minutes later when Helga finally returned to the living room, leaving behind three sleeping children. It wasn't easy by any feet by any means, but somehow, she managed. She stumbled out to the living room to find Arnold still sitting there, head thrown back and eyes shut. He had the towel she gave him wrapped around his neck—most of the bubbles were gone but he was still soaking wet. Helga crossed over and plopped down next to him.

"How many scars do you have now?" Arnold murmured.

"More than I'd like to count, but it's done. The beasts are at rest," Helga said. "I'd say you got the better end of that arrangement,"

Arnold lifted up his sleeve and squeezed. A dozen droplets of immaculately scented water dropped from his shirt and landed on the couch.

"If you say so," he said.

Helga laughed but it quickly turned into a muted cry.

"Oh God! I hate those little sonsobitches. Now let's just hope they stay down for the whole night," Helga said.

Arnold slowly looked up at her. "That's…you mean they don't stay in there?"

Helga nodded. "Oh no. It's horrible. You think it's finally over and then bam, there's one standing in the dark hallway just looking at you. It's like a horror movie,"

Arnold rubbed his face. "Oh God you were right. This _is_ the longest night of my life. It _cannot_ be like this for another ten years,"

"Woah there buddy, I like you but not enough to keep watching these bastards for another ten years." Helga said.

"No I mean, they have to grow out of this right? I was just guessing like twelve or thirteen or something," Arnold said

Helga laughed.

"They're five, and they're already hellspawn. What do you think they're going to be like as teenagers huh?

Arnold slowly looked over at her, eyes wide.

"I never wanna have kids," he said.

Helga smiled. "Sign me up for that list. I mean, _these_ three little monsters aren't typical, but still. I think humanity would have long gone extinct if _that_ was what normal children were like," Helga said.

"Still though. I think I owe my grandpa an apology when I get home. I would have _killed _me at that age." Arnold said.

Helga shook her head. "All kids are evil, but no way you were _that_ evil,"

"I don't know. I mean, you don't really remember it right? Maybe I was running around making life a living hell just as bad," Arnold said.

Helga shook her head again. "Nah you were sweet. You forget, we knew each other when we were that age. You might not remember, but I do,"

Arnold smirked. "Course I remember _that_. We smelled like graham crackers and baby wipes. Every time I walk by there I get hit with that smell. Whole building's the same, same blue awning with those goofy yellow letters. Hasn't changed at all,"

"Graham crackers, baby wipes, and rain," Helga said, smiling softly.

Arnold nodded. "That was a long time ago,"

The two sat on the couch for awhile, illuminated by the soft blue boot screen of the flat screen TV, and saying nothing. The only sound was the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional car passing slowly up the hill outside. At ten-thirty at night, the penthouse was finally quiet. Helga shut her eyes and enjoyed the silence—enjoyed the company. This was the first time she was able to really sit down all evening without the tiny looming shadows of her nephews watching over her. It was pretty peaceful up in the hills, she understood the appeal. It was nice to be above it all, part of the city and totally removed from it all at the same time. It was always the same up here—perfect and peaceful. She often thought of getting a house up here someday, that was if she could afford the king's ransom needed for a down payment.

"I don't really see you much anymore," Arnold said.

His voice sliced through the silence and caught her off guard—she jumped.

"At school I mean," He finished.

Helga cleared her throat. "Yeah well, you know, different classes and all that,"

"Yeah, but it's not like we're at Lincoln High or anything. Hillwood's a pretty small school all things considered,"

"I guess," Helga said.

They were quiet again. She wished he'd drop this.

"I don't even see you in the lunchroom anymore. Where do you go?" Arnold asked.

He looked at her then, his eyes full of innocent curiosity. She met his stare cautiously; coming from anybody else that would have been a loaded question. But it wasn't loaded, he didn't add any emphasis—it was just a simple question.

"I don't know, around. I've been busy. I'm a busy person," Helga said.

"You've been busy for two whole years?"

Helga crossed her arms. "Yeah I've been busy for two years. Life sucks. It gets in the way. What, are you saying you _miss _me or something?"

Arnold straightened up on the couch. "What? No! I mean…maybe I guess? I don't know, it's just that you were always right in there with everybody, you know? And then you just kinda disappeared," Arnold said.

"Well I just figured that we'd just start going our separate ways eventually. We're basically adults now. That's what growing up is about right?" Helga said.

Arnold shrugged. "You don't have to go looking for it,"

She paused, breathing in the sweet silence again. She was tired, and he was pushing her. Her guard was down and she was letting him get inside her head.

"I guess I also kind of figured you guys would have had about enough of me after freshman year," Helga said softly.

Arnold nodded slowly. "I don't think that was easy for anybody. I mean going clear across town, different school, different district? Don't beat yourself up about it,"

"Maybe so," Helga said.

They were quiet again. She wished she'd have just kept quiet, not bring anything up. The evening was going pretty okay—the last thing she wanted was to dredge up the past.

"Freshman year kind of sucked for me too you know," Arnold said softly.

Helga smirked.

"Oh I'm sure it was _real_ _awful_. Getting all those A's must have really taken their toll, ooh, or was it all the praise you were getting from _every single_ _teacher_ in existence?"

"I'm serious. I didn't really know anybody, so I started using studying as an excuse for why I couldn't go out or anything, not that I didn't _have_ any friends to go do stuff with."

"What about Gerald and Sid and all them?" Helga said.

"Gerald didn't really have time for me once he made varsity and I guess I really didn't work hard enough at keeping things up with him. I never really smoked so Sid was out. I don't know, everybody just started falling into these groups and I didn't really think I belonged in any of them,"

"That sounds familiar," Helga said.

They were quiet again. Arnold had seemed so together that first year—she had hated him for it. How could he be having such a good and easy time when she was in perpetual torment? She had no idea he was feeling just as messed up as she was. He just did a lot better job of hiding it.

Arnold grabbed the towel Helga got for him and started running it through his hair again.

"Anyway, I don't think anybody'll still hold all that stuff against you. We were all messed up, it was ages ago,"

She shrugged. "You never know,"

"And so what if they do? I know for a fact that you _do not_ care what anybody else thinks of you," Arnold said.

That gave her pause. Was that what people thought? Didn't seem that way to her.

"All I'm saying is you don't have to be so mysterious. _I_ still like you…" He poked his head out of the towel. "…even if you are crazy,"

"Oh gee thanks. I can always count on you for a kind word," She said, punching him in the shoulder.

"Ow! Hey!"

"Shhh! You'll wake the hellspawn!"

Both of them shot their eyes to the hallway, half expecting to see one of the triplets staring back at them, red eyes glowing above a pint sized black forked tongue. They both looked back at each other and broke out laughing. They tried as hard as they could to hold it in and not make any noise and failed miserably at it. They kept sneaking glances back, and only laughing harder when they realized they weren't caught. Tiredness and fatigue had set in and everything was more than funny. They went on like that for what seemed like hours, and finally began to settle back in to the silence of the apartment.

Helga shook her head and glanced at her watch. It was nearly eleven.

"Jeez, it's getting late. Why don't you take off? I'll just crash here tonight and make sure they don't die or anything," Helga said.

"You sure? I don't want to leave you shorthanded if something goes wrong,"

"Don't worry about it. I've wasted enough of your weekend already,"

Arnold looked at the front door and then back at Helga. "Well…alright,"

They stood up and headed for the entrance to the apartment, walking as quietly as they could across the carpeted floor.

Arnold slipped his shoes on and grabbed the door handle. He turned to Helga to speak, but she motioned him outside in the foyer. They both stepped out and she shut the door behind them.

"This way we don't have to whisper," Helga said.

Arnold nodded. He glanced down the stairs at the front door and then back to Helga.

"Well listen, I had a pretty good time, minus the whole evil triplets thing," Arnold said.

"Glad I could be of assistance. Hopefully it wasn't too bad for a wasted Saturday night," Helga said.

Arnold chuckled. "Well considering what I normally do, this was a lot more exciting,"

Helga smiled and Arnold turned for the stairs.

"Well, I guess I'll see ya around?" Arnold said.

"Later Football Head,"

He walked down a few steps and then stopped, turning back to look at her.

"And I mean it, if you see me at school, stop and say hi or something. I'd…I'd be happy to see you,"

Helga looked down and nodded. "Okay, I'll do that,"

"Okay, well…bye," Arnold said.

He grinned at her and walked the rest of the way down.

Helga stood on the stoop for a few moments, watching the front door, and finally went back inside Olga's apartment.

* * *

The rest of the night went without any major problems—the triplets stayed down, nothing caught fire, and Olga's babysitter arrived at eight o'clock sharp Sunday morning. Helga briefed the new victim and took off, heading for home. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go back and sleep without the threat of being smacked by a five year-old fist. It had been quite a night, totally draining both physically and emotionally. Helga drove back in silence, thinking about the night.

That was first time she had actually talked, just talked, with Arnold since…well she didn't remember when. Before, there was always an excuse for why they were meeting; most of the time it had to do with Jamba Juice. That was the only place she knew he was _required_ to talk to her, if only for two minutes at a time behind the register or the blenders. She could get her daily dose and be on her way without any embarrassing or emotionally revealing overlap. She figured this was a good deal and she was fine with it. Until last night—that changed things.

It was liberating just talking like that. No expectations, no time constraints, no excuses. She almost forgot what it was like with him—she had a blast. He did something to her, let her forget about all of the other stuff and just be Helga. She didn't have to worry about keeping up images or saying the right thing because he'd never spread rumors or repeat anything. Seeing him for a few minutes at a time didn't allow for that same deal, it was just different. When it was just the two of them though, like it was in the old days…well that was different too, and she forgot how much she liked it. In that moment, sitting in traffic behind a red Honda on 32nd avenue, Helga realized how badly she missed him. She also realized that now she had a pathway to get him back too.

She was tired, exhausted even—Helga knew this. She also knew you can't trust your head when it was this tired. These thoughts were dangerous. These were the thoughts that led her astray when she first started high school and she most definitely _did not _want a repeat performance. She was over him and that entire group—she'd grown up and everybody was happier.

Helga turned off 34th onto Vine. The traffic was lighter and there were fewer lights—she had a straight shot home. She rolled the window down and pressed the gas pedal down, coasting down the avenue.

But what if he missed her too? That would change things wouldn't it? He _did _seem to have a good time, even enjoy himself in places, she reminded herself. Her brain started a highlight reel of the evening as if on cue. He _did_ seem to have fun, and actually _like_ being around her. Helga's brain focused in on the last five minutes, playing them over and over. Arnold shared moments of his emotional instability_, told her_ to find him and blushed bright red when he did it. Maybe, just maybe, there was something there after all? She dismissed it instantly. The questions were back and they only led her down bad roads. Besides, it was a nice thought but there was no way people would have just forgotten her freshman meltdown. It was just the way it was—she was a grownup now and Arnold was still a kid. It sucked but that was life—and life, Helga reminded herself, did not play fair.

She pulled in the driveway and cut the engine and sat in the driveway for a moment, listening to the silence of the morning. It was peacefully quiet inside the Pataki house—no screaming Big Bob, no passed out Miriam, no squealing Olga—a much needed respite. Helga went straight for her bed and promptly passed out with nobody to stop her. The triplets worked her over the night before and now her mind was taking a turn in the ring—she needed to sleep. Even though Olga and Edgar's couch was nicer than most designer beds she knew about, it was still a couch and no matter how nice, it was no substitute for her own bed.

* * *

The next thing she knew, it was Monday morning and she was late for school. Her phone was chirping happily at her, and she slammed her thumb down on the snooze button. The rest of Sunday was a waste—sleep didn't come easy and when it did, it was filled with old dreams. Dreams she thought were long gone. Helga finally passed out at eight, figuring she'd figure things out later. Later came and went, and now it was seven-thirty in the morning.

She lay there a minute, looking up at the gray ceiling dim with the morning light, and flipped her phone back on to turn off the alarm. She was an adult making an adult decision: she needed a sick day. Nobody would miss her, and besides, if anybody deserved a day off after dealing with those children it was her. When she unlocked the screen though she saw a new text notification. From Arnold.

_Hey. Hope you're not too dead from sat. I kno I was. Eating lunch in the quad by the gym today. Join us?_

Helga flipped the screen off. The sun was just starting to invade the window, turning everything in her room a dim shade of purple. She threw her arm over her head and sighed: it wasn't supposed to be like this. She was seventeen, practically on her own. She was supposed to have things figured out by now—she was an adult. She sure didn't feel like one.

Helga propped up on one elbow and looked around the room. Her pink curtains were still on the wall, she had the same white and pink dresser with stickers all over the drawers. A Raggedy Ann doll sat on the white chair in the corner, the same one that was with her since she was eight. The only thing different about the entire room was sitting in the middle of the bed.

Helga shook her head and smiled. Maybe it _was_ time to head back, reunite with the old gang. They needed somebody to keep them in line after all. Maybe she'd give this kid thing another shot, give it few more years. An education was a horrible thing to waste, she thought, and besides—it seemed somebody might miss her today after all.

* * *

**End. Thanks for reading!**


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